


Upon My Life, My Lord, I'll Undertake It

by MysticMoonhigh



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal, Crack, Furbies, M/M, Smut, crackfic, crowley has furbies instead of plants, furbys made them do it, how long does something have to be until it isn't a joke anymore, ineffable husbands, title is from shakespeare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-06
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:35:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24033649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MysticMoonhigh/pseuds/MysticMoonhigh
Summary: There are three things that a reader may want to remember to consider before continuing.One; furbies do not repeat what they have heard. That’s a common misconception. Crowley, having been heavily involved in their creation, knew this.Two; Aziraphale had heard this rumor, and believed it to be truth. And Aziraphale’s belief, as Crowley’s, shaped the very nature of the things around him.Three; The furbies in the glass case were in Crowley’s bedroom. And as Aziraphale’s belief in their ability to repeat words and phrases began to affect them, they miraculously learned many of the things Crowley had said over the years during his… erm. Alone time.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 52
Kudos: 152
Collections: Gather Ye Sinners for GOmens RP Collection, Ixnael’s Recommendations, Most Favs, Top Aziraphale Recs





	Upon My Life, My Lord, I'll Undertake It

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a couple of "Crowley has furbies instead of plants" aus I've seen.  
> Long author's note at the bottom, but a link to the roleplay server this was birthed from.

Crowley had a miniature plastic spoon in one hand and an english to furbish dictionary in the other. He had recently invested in a new furby, and had grown rusty in his furbish since the others had long ago stopped using it. Nowadays, his acclimated pets tended to use english.

Too much english, sometimes.

“Alright, ingrates,” Crowley growled, “Time for lunch. Up, all of you.”

Like a tidal wave rising, Crowley’s hoarde of furbies slowly began to awaken. Their eyes blinked open, and some wiggled their ears. A sound not unlike velcro being dragged across sandpaper accompanied it. 

Those early mechanics tended to be noisy. Crowley had designed them that way. 

“You first, Chicken Nugget,” Crowley cooed. Chicken Nugget opened his mouth wide, and Crowley inserted the spoon, wiggling it around in Chicken Nugget’s mouth. Chicken nugget made noises of satisfaction as he c o n s u m e d. 

“Yessss,” Crowley hissed, continuing down the line. These first ones were always the easiest to feed; he kept all the best behaved ones in a glass case in his bedroom. “That’s it, Please God No The Third. Oh, I know  _ you’ll _ be hungry, Martha Stewart. You’re always a greedy little thing.”

Once he was finished, he went ahead and lovingly squeezed each of them, getting them up and going. Some wanted to play peek-a-boo, some shrieked that it tickled, and some sang him a song. 

“ _ Tell me a joke! _ ” Colonel Sanders cried. 

“The United States Coronavirus response.” Crowley said. 

Colonel Sanders laughed. 

Once he was finished, he turned each of them towards their neighbors. Furbys were naturally social creatures, and Crowley was of the opinion that you should never have just one. They began to interact, playing peek-a-boo or telling stories. Kee-Kah (which means busy beak in furbish) was even living up to his name, telling a long-winded joke. 

“Now, hurry it along.” He warned. “You’ll only have a couple of hours of social time before I have to leave today.”

With that warning, Crowley moved on to the rest of the furbies, scattered throughout the house. 

There were furbies on shelves, furbies on the floor, furbies strategically placed to make guests feel as though they were being watched while they ate supper, and more. Crowley carefully located and fed each of them, adding a threat here or there as he found some not giving off a less menacing aura. 

“Not The Sharpest Crayon In The Box,” He addressed the furby he had placed to the side of the television set, “I need you to cooperate with me here. I know you’re… Well. Not the brightest bulb, but you  _ need _ to be more menacing. Give me something to work with here!”

There were, of course, those which had already fully lost his favor as well. 

He paced before Karen, Wandisimo, and Tank. 

“If you don’t  _ straighten the fuck up _ ,” His voice started off at a low growl before escalating into a full-blown yell, “I will personally eviscerate you!” 

The three of them shook in their cages of metal and fur. 

When he was finally finished, he collapsed into his desk chair. He reached out to lovingly stroke Furb’s top tuft of hair. He was startled to hear that the sound coming out of Furb’s mouth were  _ not _ the usual sighs of enjoyment. 

A demonic voice came from Furb’s little speaker. “ _ This is Hell, in search of the Demon Crowley. _ ”

“Erm, yes, this is he.” Crowley responded. 

“ _ We need you for a mission. Beelzebub mentioned you by name. _ ”

“I’m flattered.” Crowley said. His stomach sank. 

Well. He supposed that his plans with Aziraphale were about to be cancelled. Bloody brilliant. 

“ _ We need you in Scotland. More information will be given when you arrive. _ ”

“Alright. Hail Satan.” Crowley said, rolling his eyes. It was  _ just _ like Hell to be as vague as possible. It was almost like someone didn’t want to have to come up with anything specific yet, as if this were some… irrelevant subplot in a larger story.

“ _ Hail Satan. _ ” Furb responded. 

There was a click as Hell stopped its possession. 

Oh, well. 

He supposed he’d better find a furby sitter.

~~~

Aziraphale stared down at the plastic spoon. “So I… Shove this in their mouths?”

“Yes, and then just squeeze them a few times.” Crowley instructed, “And face them towards their neighbor, like so.”

He reached for Spaghetti, and turned her towards Magical Mister Mistoffelees. They began chirping back and forth. 

“And… Why did you ask me to do this?” Aziraphale questioned. “I’m not exactly good with technology, Crowley.”

“Last time I got a sitter,” Crowley explained, “The woman on the app reviewed the experience, called my house nightmare fuel. She left before I got back. With that review on my profile, nobody else will take the job.”

It had been a real nightmare for Crowley’s furbies, who were all feeling sad and socially isolated by the time he got back. 

“Alright,” Aziraphale sighed. “But you’ll be back in a few days?”

“Maybe even sooner.” Crowley promised. “ And we’ll go out, like we planned.”

Aziraphale sent a shy smile Crowley’s way, and the demon felt his heart stutter. He gazed into Aziraphale’s bright blue eyes, and felt his heart melt a little. 

He had been pining for so,  _ so long _ now.

“Hurry back.” Aziraphale requested.

~~~

There are three things that a reader may want to remember to consider before continuing. 

One; furbies do not repeat what they have heard. That’s a common misconception. Crowley, having been heavily involved in their creation, knew this. 

Two; Aziraphale had heard this rumor, and believed it to be truth. And Aziraphale’s belief, as Crowley’s, shaped the very nature of the things around him. 

Three; The furbies in the glass case were in Crowley’s bedroom. And as Aziraphale’s belief in their ability to repeat words and phrases began to affect them, they miraculously learned many of the things Crowley had said over the years during his… erm. Alone time.

~~~ 

Aziraphale fretted with the buttons on his coat as he stared into the case. “Oh, why is this so  _ difficult _ ?” 

It was difficult, of course, due to the ambiguously lifeless eyes staring at him from across the room. The presence of so many furbies made him feel like he was being watched, which made him apprehensive. If he screwed up, it would not go unwitnessed. 

Breathing through it, Aziraphale stepped forward. He opened the case, and stared into each one of their lifeless eyes. 

“Alright,” He said, tentatively, “Breakfast time, I suppose.” 

Thirty eyes snapped open in unison. Ears wiggled. Some made small, excited noises. 

Aziraphale felt… Well, a little bit better. He relaxed some, taking the spoon Crowley had given him and inserting it carefully into the mouth of The Furby Formerly Known As Snoop Dog. 

The furby gave an appreciative noise, and Aziraphale responded with a soft smile. Huh. He could… Kind of see the appeal, he supposed. Much like a real life pet. 

“Hmm, you don’t seem so bad,” Aziraphale cooed softly. 

Just then, the furby next to him decided to try out some of its newly learned English. 

“ _ Fuck yeah, Angel, _ ” Wells Fargo exclaimed, “ _ Make me choke on it. _ ” 

“My word!” Aziraphale exclaimed, taking a step back. The spoon clattered to the ground. Aziraphale looked between it and Wells Fargo. “I will do  _ no such thing _ . I promised Crowley that I would take good care of you, and I don’t think that  _ choking- _ ”

“ _ That’s the spot, Aziraphale, _ ” Yeehaw said, from the bottom right corner, “ _ Just like that, keep going. _ ”

“Just like… What?” Aziraphale questioned, his brows furrowing. He looked around the room, his eyes narrowing. “Crowley, if this is your doing, it’s not funny!”

“ _ Faster, please, I need it, _ ” Big Yikes put in. 

Aziraphale blinked. 

“ _ Pull my hair, _ ” Pond Scum shouted.

“ _ I’m your ssssslut _ .” McRib put in. 

“ _ Fuck me already, Angel _ !” Beatrice exclaimed. 

Aziraphale went perfectly still. He… Wasn’t sure he was hearing this right. It almost sounded like these little devils were repeating… Things that Crowley had said. Highly sexual things. About  _ him _ . 

“...Can you lot tell me whether or not you heard this from Crowley?” He asked, carefully. 

“ _ All yours, Angel _ .” Leprosy put in. 

“Alright, then,” He said. He bit his lip softly, considering. “I suppose I’ll have to give him a call.” 

After he was finished with feeding them, of course. 

~~~ 

Crowley answered on the first ring. 

He was in a fairly good mood. The temptation had been successful (and much quicker than Hell would have had him believe), and he was sitting in front of a roaring fireplace at a quiet inn, waiting to leave for the next flight.

He knew it was Aziraphale calling before he looked at his phone.

“Hey there, Angel,” he purred. The waitress slid him a glass of mead across the counter, and he nodded in thanks.

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said. Crowley’s brow furrowed. 

“You sound off,” He said, worried. “Are you having issues with Ducks? I know he’s been a funny one ever since he lost his ears in that accident-”

“No, no, no,” Aziraphale quickly reassured him. “All of them ate fine.”

Crowley let out a breath, and reached for his glass. It was cool in his palm, and the wine was tangy against his tongue. “Then to what do I owe this pleasure?”

“They’ve been… Saying things.” Aziraphale said. 

“There’s a furbish-to-english dictionary on the coffee table.” Crowley informed him, frowning. Hmmm. Maybe some of them had slipped back into furbish more often with the new addition. 

“No, not that,” Aziraphale said. Crowley could practically hear him playing with the buttons on the coat. “They’re repeating things that… I think you might have said before.”

Crowley sighed. “That’s a rumor, Angel.”

“...Not anymore, I don’t think.” Aziraphale said, tentatively. Again, there was something in his voice that let Crowley know that something was wrong. 

Crowley wracked his brain for what they might be saying that could make his angel this worried. 

“If you’re worried about their safety,” He said, finally pinning something down, “I don’t actually kill the ones I get rid of. You can’t really kill a furby, no matter how hard you try. I just teleport them into the collections of other-”

“That’s not what I’m calling about.” Aziraphale interrupted. “Crowley, the ones in your bedroom. They’re saying-”

Crowley realized all at once what they were probably saying, and a chill went up his spine as his phone clattered to the floor. He could hear Aziraphale’s muffled voice asking whether or not he was still there, but he couldn’t process it. 

Crowley snapped his fingers, and he was back in his apartment. 

Aziraphale jumped, dropping his phone as well. Today was not a good day to be a phone. “Sorry, I didn’t expect you to… to-”

“What,” Crowley said, “Are they saying?”

From across the room, Chef Boyardee answered his question.

“ _ Rail me, Angel _ ,” he cried, “Ssssspank me harder.”

Crowley had never felt true mortification before that moment. All of his bones felt like brittle plastic.

“Are they?” Aziraphale asked, his face a deep, cherry red. “Repeating things that you’ve said?” 

Crowley sighed. He looked towards the floor, crossing his arm across his chest like he was holding himself together. “I think you know the answer to that.”

There was a long silence.

“I’m sorry you had to hear all that.” Crowley said, fighting back tears. Panic rose in him, and he did a small miracle so they wouldn’t fall from his eyes. Aziraphale shouldn’t feel like he had to comfort him. “I’m sure that you’re uncomfortable, and I understand if-”

“Is it emotional?” Aziraphale questioned. 

Crowley looked up, his eyebrows pulling together. “What?”

“Is it emotional?” Aziraphale questioned, swallowing. “As well as physical. Is it  _ just _ lust, or do you have… romantic feelings?”

“Don’t act like you haven’t known,” Crowley scoffed. “I don’t know if you think you’re sparing me or something, but you’re only making this harder.”

“Excuse me?” Aziraphale questioned.

And of course that bloody idiot would keep pretending to be oblivious. As if every conversation they’d ever had wasn’t Crowley telling him that he loved him in a million subtle ways, and him silently informing Crowley that he didn’t return those feelings. Crowley didn’t have the energy for it.

“I think that you should leave.” Crowley said. His breath caught in his throat, and he found that his eyes were wet again. 

“No.” Aziraphale responded. 

Crowley looked up, gritting his teeth. “What do you  _ mean _ , no?”

“No, I’m not leaving.” Aziraphale said. He took a step closer, and Crowley tensed. “You’re not the one who’s making the rules right now. I think-” He took another step closer, bringing his hands up to tentatively grab Crowley’s jacket, “-That you might like it if I explained myself a little further.”

Crowley gasped, and his blood rushed south. 

Oh, fuck. This was… Not the reaction that he had been expecting.

“Oh yeah?” He questioned, his cock twitching in his too-damn-tight pants, “And what gave you that impression?”

“ _ Make me submit! _ ” Count Olaf cried out, with perfect timing.

Aziraphale smiled. 

“I believe  _ you _ did, my Dear.” He said. Aziraphale pushed him back, and continued advancing. It only took a couple of steps before he was pushed back against the wall, with Aziraphale’s hips pressing into his. “When you accidentally told your entire Furby collection exactly what you want me to do to you.”

“I’ll have you know that the ones I keep in here are far from my entire collection.”

Aziraphale leaned forward, and Crowley’s insecurity reeled its ugly head. 

“So, wait,” Crowley interrupted, stopping Aziraphale in his tracks. “You… Also return my feelings? Romantically and sexually?”

It was probably a stupid question, since he could feel Aziraphale’s erection pressing up against his own thigh. 

Oh, fuck. He felt  _ thick _ . 

“Yes,” Aziraphale informed him, giving a prissy little sigh. “Now, may I kiss you?”

A wave of affection, relief, and  _ triumph _ swept through Crowley. “Yes. Please, Angel, ye-”

Aziraphale leaned forward and kissed Crowley, their lips softening into it as the urgency faded somewhat. A warm, ecstatic buzz filled Crowley’s chest as Aziraphale’s hand found its way to his lower back, pulling him closer.

Crowley moaned. A couple of the furbys echoed the sound. 

Aziraphale pulled away, his smile reaching his eyes as he looked Crowley over. “Would you like to move this to the bed?”

Crowley swallowed. 

“Yes, I would.” He answered. Aziraphale stepped back, and held out his hand. Crowley’s eyes flickered down to it and back up to his angel before he reached out, tenderly taking it. 

Aziraphale pulled him towards the bed, and Crowley came without complaint. All of his wildest dreams were coming true, and it was all thanks to a furby collection even more impressive than his massive cock.

(It should be noted that the second half of the above sentence has been submitted for consideration to the Cards Against Humanity team). 

Aziraphale lead them, and Crowley easily fell back onto the bed. He scooted back as Aziraphale crawled up, looking at Crowley through hungry eyes. Crowley felt a soft, vulnerable noise bubble up as Aziraphale leaned down, pressing his lips to his neck. The  _ heat _ that tore through him was dizzying. 

Aziraphale kissed up Crowley’s jaw carefully, stopping to gently nip at his ear. Crowley arched up, his hands moving to grasp at Aziraphale’s strong shoulders. 

“Why don’t you tell me,” Aziraphale asked, his breath hot in Crowley’s ear, “Exactly what you do to yourself when you say such  _ dirty _ things.”

Crowley let out a whine. One of Aziraphale’s hands snaked down to fondle his bulge, and it felt like he was melting into the bed. 

“Please, Dearest,” Azirphale requested, sitting back so he could use both of his hands to unbutton Crowley’s skinny jeans, “I’ve been thinking about it all day.”

“I--aaaah,” Crowley sighed as Aziraphale slowly began unzipping his pants, excitement tingling through him as he tried to get his thoughts in order, “I sssstart by taking out my cock?”

“Like this?” Aziraphale questioned, pulling his pants down over his hips. He then pulled the waistband of Crowley’s underwear down, gently reaching in to free him from his confines. The cool air hit Crowley’s hot cock, and he trembled.

“Y-Yes,” Crowley said. Aziraphale raised an eyebrow, prompting him to continue. “Then I, um. I get the lube.”

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and Crowley’s cock was suddenly slick. Aziraphale’s hand reached down, his fingers gently wrapping around the base of Crowley’s length. Aziraphale looked up, giving Crowley a patient smile. “And then?”

Crowley was breathing heavily, his cock throbbing in Aziraphale’s hand. He could have sworn that he had never been more aware of it than he had in that moment.

“I start to st-” Crowley stuttered as Aziraphale began an achingly slow pump of his hand, stroking him from base to tip. “-Stroke.”

Crowley was transfixed, watching Aziraphale’s hand move around his twitching cock. His legs were already trembling, and heat seemed to have sunk into every nook and cranny of his corporation. 

“And what did you think about?” Aziraphale questioned. 

“You,” Crowley said, his breath coming faster as he rocked his hips into Aziraphale’s thrust, his body taking over. He threw his head back, moaning. 

“Do be more specific, Dear.” Aziraphale requested. 

“I think about you fuh- fucking me.”

Howie Mandel apparently thought that this would be a good place to chime in, and from the shelf he shouted, “ _ Choke me, choke me! _ ”

Lord Furbquaad, The Cake, and No Substitutions started laughing. Crowley felt his eye twitch. 

This was why those bitches were on the bottom row. 

“Aaah, a  _ splendid  _ idea, erm-” Aziraphale turned to Crowley, “What is that one’s name, Dear?”

“...Howie Mandel.”

“Aaah, yes.” Aziraphale turned to the case. “Thank you, Mister Mandel.”

Crowley opened his mouth to respond, but Aziraphale’s hand was pressing softly against his collarbone before he could. His brain short-circuited as he took a sharp breath, adrenaline flooding him.

“Would it be okay if I were to follow his suggestion?”

“Please,” Crowley said, his voice rough. His muscles tensed as Aziraphale’s hand came up to wrap around his throat, pressing him firmly into the bed. Aziraphale put a gentle, steady pressure on the sides of his neck, continuing to stroke Crowley’s cock. 

“If you ever want me to stop, just tap my shoulder.” Aziraphale said.

Crowley’s muscles tightened. Pure pleasure was radiating through him as he struggled to take a comfortable breath (he would have to tell Aziraphale he could get a little rougher later, but for now, this was a  _ fucking fantastic _ start). 

“I wonder how long it will take you to cum like this?” Aziraphale mused. He slowed his stroke, stopping to swipe the pad of his thumb over Crowley’s sensitive cockhead. Crowley’s hips jerked, and Aziraphale repeated the motion, sending his nerves haywire. “You’re so beautiful, Crowley.”

Crowley made a noise somewhere between a whine and a moan, muffled by Aziraphale’s firm hold on his neck. 

“What was that?” Aziraphale questioned, continuing to pay attention to the most sensitive parts of Crowley’s swollen cock. “You’ll have to speak up, Dear.”

Crowley felt a burning sensation building through him, his muscles trembling as Aziraphale worked him. He couldn’t remember why he was holding on anymore, couldn’t imagine why he would. 

He closed his eyes as he came  _ hard _ , unloading on Aziraphale’s hand and his own stomach. It felt like it lasted forever, Aziraphale’s steady hand keeping him cumming for far longer than should strictly be possible. 

Once he was finally spent and softening in Aziraphale’s hand, Aziraphale released his neck. 

“Are you alright?” He questioned.

“Hnnnng,” Crowley responded, panting. He was still shaking, and his hands had slid from Aziraphale’s shoulders to fall beside his head. 

“I trust that that’s a yes.” Aziraphale responded.

“Yes, Angel.” Crowley responded.

“ _ YeS AnGeL! _ ” Tinky Winky, Existential Dread, and So Ya Like Jazz? Shouted, mockingly. Crowley glared at the case. 

“Why don’t we shut that?” Aziraphale recommended.

“It won’t stop them.” Crowley said. 

グーグル翻訳を使ってもらいました laughed madly. 

“We could take out the batteries?” Aziraphale suggested.

“They don’t have any.” Crowley responded. 

“Well,” Aziraphale said, “We’ll just have to make due, then.”

Crowley’s soft cock twitched at the realization that they were far from finished. Someone had too many Furby names to stop the smut scene here. 

But not enough to write them taking off each other’s clothes.

Aziraphale snapped his fingers, and both of them were naked. He leaned forward, capturing Crowley’s lips in a passionate kiss. Crowley moaned into it, beginning to take interest again. Aziraphale pulled away, but rested his forehead gently against Crowley’s. 

“Would you mind turning over, Dear?” Aziraphale questioned. “I believe you might enjoy a good, thorough fucking.”

Crowley nodded, eagerly. Aziraphale scooted off of the bed to give him room, and Crowley got himself situated. Aziraphale grabbed his ankle and gave a soft, but insistent tug. Crowley wiggled his way back until his feet were flat against the ground, with his forearms still resting against the bed. 

“Very good.” Aziraphale praised. Crowley felt fingers in his hair, and he leaned into the touch. “Such an obedient little pet.”

Crowley felt the cool press of lubed fingers to his ass, and he gave an enthusiastic moan. Aziraphale sank a finger in, gently rocking it back and forth. Crowley forced himself to relax, and was rewarded by Aziraphale adding a second finger. 

“Pleasssssse,” Crowley begged. He wanted Aziraphale to  _ use _ him already. 

“Please what?” Aziraphale questioned. The hand that had been in Crowley’s hair was suddenly a fist, tugging his hair, forcing his head back. Crowley’s cock twitched, already at half-mast. 

“Fuck me,” Crowley gasped. 

“ _ Fuck me! _ ” Tony The Tiger and Slim Jim shouted in unison. This was largely ignored by Aziraphale, who curled his fingers, rubbing them against Crowley’s prostate. 

Crowley’s legs shook, and an ungodly noise came out of his mouth. (Ungodly Noise also happened to be the name of one of the furbies in the living room). 

“I know you can ask nicer than that,” Aziraphale tutted. He rubbed quick, harsh circles against Crowley’s prostate. Crowley found that he was leaking precum sooner than he would have thought possible, his cock already fully hard and curved up towards his stomach. 

“Pleasssse, Aziraphale,” Crowley begged, “Use me. Fuck me with your big fat cock, I’m your pet, I’m your ssssslut. Whatever you want me to say, I’ll say it.”

“Hmmm.” Aziraphale hummed, thoughtfully. He slipped a third finger into Crowley’s twitching hole, rocking them in and out deliberately until Crowley relaxed around them again. 

“Zira, give me your cock.” Crowley begged. “Let me take it, I’ve been thinking about it for  _ agessssss _ , please don’t make me wait.”

“That’s it, Dove. You sound so pretty when you beg.” Aziraphale said, letting his fingers slip from Crowley’s hole. Crowley spread his legs a little further as he felt Aziraphale line his cock up. It took a conscious effort for him to remain relaxed as Aziraphale began to push in. 

“Oh,  _ yessssss _ ,” Crowley hissed. Aziraphale’s hand came to grasp at his hip as he came flush with Crowley, buried to the hilt. 

Crowley was certain that this was what bliss felt like. 

Aziraphale leaned forward, the warmth of his body pressing against Crowley’s back as his breath tickled his ear. “Would you like me to move, Darling?”

“Please,” Crowley whispered, reverently. His hole twitched around Aziraphale, despite his best efforts to keep relaxed. 

“You’re still so tight.” Aziraphale said. But even as he spoke, he began a slow withdraw. He only pulled out a couple of inches before pushing back in, the slow drag against his prostate causing Crowley to moan. 

Several furbies moaned in unison before bursting out into laughter. 

Crowley gritted his teeth. 

“Malcolm, if that’s you, you’d better shut the fuck up.” He growled. “Or I  _ will _ separate you and Remember When We All Cared About American Idol.”

Internet Explorer laughed a weak chuckle, too late to participate with the others.

“They  _ are _ getting on my nerves a tad.” Aziraphale fretted. 

Crowley shifted back, managing to get Aziraphale to slide in a couple more inches. “You know how you could take out your anger?”

Aziraphale’s grip in his hair tightened, and Crowley gave a hiss of triumph. 

“Alright, then, Serpent,” Aziraphale said, redirecting his attention back to the job at hand, “I suppose you have had plenty enough time to brace yourself.”

Aziraphale started thrusting in earnest, his hips smacking into Crowley’s with every rough thrust. The insistent drag of Aziraphale’s thick cock against his already overstimulated prostate had Crowley squirming, heat dancing along his skin as his angel  _ finally _ got to the fucking point. 

Aziraphale’s thrusts slowly, but steadily, sped. Crowley couldn’t get used to it, every thrust raised the intensity until he was squirming, thrusting back to meet Aziraphale, his cock  _ pulsing _ .

“Aziraphale,” Crowley panted. His legs began to shake again. Aziraphale tugged at his hair, his grip on Crowley’s thigh tightening. 

“If you want me to touch your cock, I’m not going to.” Aziraphale informed him. Crowley barely stopped a needy whine from escaping his lips. “You’re going to cum  _ just like this. _ ” Aziraphale emphasized his words with a few harder thrusts, absolutely hammering into Crowley’s prostate.

Crowley’s cock was leaking precum, swollen and aching where it bobbed between his legs. He grabbed two fist-fulls of the sheets, holding on for dear life as he twitched around the angel. 

“Crowley,” Aziraphale said, his voice half-moan, “Would you like me to finish inside you when I cum?”

“Yes!” Crowley answered, immediately. The  _ thought _ of Aziraphale’s cum inside of him made his knees weak. “Please cum in me.”

“Oh, I will,” Aziraphale said, catching on, “I’ll fill you up. Maybe I’ll even plug you afterwards, keep anything from dripping out. Keep you nice and full till I feel like using you again.” 

“Angel,” Crowley breathed, feeling the fire turn into an inferno. He was tensed, shaking, and couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m going to-”

“Cum for me, Crowley,” Aziraphale said. 

That was all the permission Crowley needed. 

It didn’t stop four fucking furbies from giving him permission too, though. 

“ _ Cum for me, Crowley! _ ” Lincoln park, Mitochondria Is The Powerhouse of the Cell, and the twins, Tim and Bob, all shouted. It would have killed the mood if Crowley wasn’t cumming harder than he’d ever cum in his entire six-thousand years of existence. 

Aziraphale followed. Crowley felt a wave of heat as he continued to pound into his overstimulated prostate. His eyes rolled into the back of his head as Aziraphale gave one last, hard thrust, moaning as he came. 

They panted, revelling in the afterglow. 

Aziraphale pulled out slowly, and Crowley whined at the feeling of being empty. 

“So,” he said, “Would you like me to plug you, or should that stay dirty talk?”

“Um.” Crowley’s deep blush answered for him. Aziraphale snapped his fingers and he had a buttplug, stainless steel and weighty. He raised an eyebrow. Crowley responded, “Yes.”

Aziraphale inserted it, and Crowley shuddered at the feeling of his body taking it in. As soon as he released it, Aziraphale snapped. He had used a miracle to clean up his hands, and the drying cum from Crowley’s stomach. 

Aziraphale’s touch in his hair became gentle again, and Crowley melted into it. 

“Why don’t we get you on the bed?” Aziraphale suggested. Crowley allowed it, practically slithering up onto the cool sheets. His bones felt like Jell-O (Which, I’m sure you guessed, is all of the furby’s favorite food). 

Aziraphale crawled up behind him, wrapping Crowley in his arms. Crowley sighed contentedly, pressing up against the angel. Aziraphale snapped again, and suddenly, they were covered in a warm blanket. 

“ _ Awwwww, _ ” To Furby Or Not To Be, Furby Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap), and God all exclaimed. Crowley gave a little hiss of indignation. 

He couldn’t be too mad, though. After all, they just wanted the best for him.

“They all behaved earlier, right?” He questioned. 

“I had a little bit of trouble out of No Guys The Scientist Is Frankenstein, Jorts, and You Don’t Deserve A Name.”

“Typical.” Crowley scoffed. There was a  _ reason _ she didn’t deserve a name. 

“I did have particularly good behavior from one in particular, though.” Aziraphale informed him. 

“Oh yeah?” Crowley asked. “Who?”

“Neil Gaiman.” Aziraphale answered. “In fact, dare I say, without him, none of this would have been possible.”

“You’re right.” Crowley agreed, nodding. “And then where would we be?”

“ _ Better off _ !” Sue Me Disney shouted. 

“If you start to gain sentience,” Crowley threatened, “I will send you to another dimension, you little twat.”

Sue Me Disney cowered in fear. 

“That’s better.” Crowley growled. 

Aziraphale leaned in to press a gentle kiss to Crowley’s cheek. 

While he had never had an appreciation for the little beasts before, he had to admit that now, he would never think about furbies the same way again. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: So, I have some people to thank. I didn’t come up with all the names presented here. In fact, it took… *checks notes* a whopping 11 people to churn out all of these names. So, without further ado, thank you to my online friends:
> 
> Waldos Akimbo: Hatchet, Please God No The Third, Big Yikes and Ducks.  
> A-Ginger-Demon: Furb, Beatrice  
> Trash Princess 37: Tank, Skinny Legs  
> PastelPenguins: Tommy Two Shoes, Pond Scum, Chicken Nuggets, No Substitutions  
> Starbell: “Steal some names from cats” (I did), The Cake  
> Jenyxn: Karen
> 
> And to my IRL friends:  
> Kate: Ludacris,  
> Jay: To Furby Or Not To Be, Furby Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap)  
> Davis: Tim (of the twins), God  
> CC: Bob (of the twins), Lord Furbquaad  
> Greg: Kee-Kah 
> 
> Please leave a comment. Tell me which Furby names were your favorite or contribute your own. Crowley has thousands of them, so You can assume that every suggested name in the comments is canon within the context of this story as long as I leave the comment up.


End file.
